


The 'Away' Part

by Ravenshell



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Contest Entry, Farmhouse, Poetry, Slam Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6892057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenshell/pseuds/Ravenshell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey's reflections on his time at the farmhouse. Slam-poem for an under-500 word prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 'Away' Part

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: Written for the "Home away from home" contest on devArt's Writer-Nexus group contest. The prompt required entries to be a drabble or poem under 500 words. This is to be read like slam poetry. :) Please check out all the entries (they're all hella short!) and vote (starting Jun 1)!
> 
> PS, the term 'being put on a bus' is a TV trope where a character is sent away, possibly never to return, being written out of the show.

The ‘Away’ Part

 

Home away from home, they say. I’m tired of ‘home away from home.’ I just want ‘home.’

 

We’ve been out here for months. It’s been like a horror movie. Actually, it’s been living a B-horror marathon with not nearly enough popcorn and chocolate-peanut pizza. Have you ever nearly been eaten by a turducken? I don’t recommend it. We’ve been up against everything from life-sucking plush toys to April’s mom. Okay, she wasn’t _really_ her mom… but who knew it all along?? ME. And who got eaten first? ME.

I got better.

But I still just want to go home.

 

Raph and Leo have been all about the forest stealth thing, and Bigfoot was supposed to help. Blend in, they said. I blended in real good, with what I learned was poison sumac… especially when all the itchy red dots popped up, same shade as the berries.

There’s no poison sumac in the city. 

And you can’t board on grass and soil. 

I wanna go home.

 

Stay inside, Mikey, they say, but try to have one bangin’ party, and it’s Go outside, Mikey! But you run away and find a friend in a frog and then suddenly it’s a war and things are on fire and the best friend you’ve made gets an awesome promotion but when the buds you’ve made are put on a bus it’s a bummer, and chickens are only friends ‘til you run out of feed and GOD, I JUST WANT TO GO HOME.

 

Come outside and look at all the stars, they said, it’s so pretty.

You can count all the stars in the sky back home. There’s, like, seven. Nine if it’s clear.

Here, there’s BILLIONS. Even Don can’t name them all. It’s like the lights in the city, a good view from the top of a highrise. The Milky Way’s like a traffic jam on the turnpike.

But they’re cold. All white, and cold.

And I’m under them, not on top. Sometimes I feel like they’ll fall on me, or _I’m_ going to fall, fall up into those billion not-city lights, because they should be below me and it’s the wrong direction… _I’m_ the wrong direction, I’m in the wrong place and the place is all wrong and I’m falling face-first into skyscrapers that aren’t, cold lights that aren’t from windows and buildings and billboards. 

I’m in the wrong place.

A star rips the sky in half and I just shudder while everyone makes a wish. They all make the same wish, that Sensei is okay. I wish that hardest, and hope it’s not too late to count.

 

Maybe he _is_ okay, and back home. Without us.

 

‘Home away from home’ isn’t the same as ‘home.’

And I just want to go home.

 


End file.
